


The Way We Were

by EffieA



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, M/M, Swearing, Temporary Amnesia, Underage Drinking, Young Peter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-18 10:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13680024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffieA/pseuds/EffieA
Summary: After a crash, Yondu can't remember the last seven years of his life, including being exiled by Stakar Ogord and the acquisition of a certain Terran child.





	1. Don't You (Forget About Me)

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea because I was thinking about what it would be like if the me of a few years ago was suddenly dropped into my life as it is now. I'm guessing it would be a huge shock, but probably not as bad as it is for poor Yondu. 
> 
> This is set approximately six years after they took Peter from Earth.

The door whooshes open and the doctor peeks her head out into the corridor and glances at the two figures clothed in grimy red leather. They look to be Xandarian like her, but that’s where the similarities end. One is slouched against the wall and the other is curled up in the fetal position. Both are asleep and both are looking pretty banged up themselves. She had known when she took this job at a rundown low-cost clinic that it wouldn’t be easy, but usually it’s the people she’s treating who mess with her emotions. Whereas this time it’s the relatively uninjured companion of a patient. Sure enough, one look is enough to confirm her earlier suspicions that the younger boy is a minor by Nova standards and probably has at least three years before he’ll be a legal adult, at that. It’s not exactly uncommon for young people from the rougher parts of the Empire and its outskirts to join criminal gangs in the hopes of escaping their shitty lives. It is a damned shame, though, and alerting the Nova Corps wouldn’t do more than insure the boy is locked up in some prison full of scumbags where he’d learn to be an even worse menace to society. Maybe if this kid had had a better start in life he could have finished school and eventually joined the Corps himself. Instead, he’s dozing in a dirty heap on the floor, waiting to hear if his boss has bled out or not. Next time it could be him in the hospital bed or, more likely, left to die in an alley somewhere. That’s just how the universe works, she thinks with a sigh. Not everyone is destined to be a hero. She bangs her fist against the wall. “All right, you two. He’s regained consciousness. You want to see him or not?”

The skinny guy comes alive first and he immediately shakes the younger one awake. “Hey Pete! Wake up.”

“What the… wait, where’s Yondu? He was hurt…the M-ship crashed. He got knocked out…” The boy is yawning and rubbing his eyes, which for a moment makes him seem even younger.

“The doc says he woke up,” the older guy says. He looks over at her with a guilty expression. “And, um, Doc? Sorry about punchin’ that hole in the wall earlier.”

She takes a step closer to him. “Yeah, well, if it happens again I’m calling security and having all three of you arrested. Don’t look so surprised; I’m aware of what those patches mean. You’re lucky you were even allowed in.”

Something flashes in his eyes, but he nods slowly. “Understood. C’mon, Peter.” They push past her to the bed holding the injured Centaurian.

“Hey, you said he was awake.” The teenager says, sounding slightly alarmed.

“What I said was that he regained consciousness and he did. He made the astonishingly perceptive statement that the nurse and I “ain't Kree" and drank some water. His vitals still look good so he must have drifted back to sleep. It’s probably just the effect of the medication he’s on.”

The skinny mohawk-sporting kid leans over the sleeping man. “So, if he’s gonna be OK like you say, when will he be able to come home?”

“Well, the treatment went as expected and without complications, so as soon as he feels like it, I guess. The burns from the crash are healing nicely. He’ll need to take it easy for a while, but there’s no reason why he shouldn’t make a full recovery.” As she speaks the patient’s blue eyelids flicker open.

“What…” The Ravager captain pushes himself up and glares at the two standing over him.

“Yondu! You were out for hours,” The boy says with a grin, but the Centaurian just blinks at him.

“There you are, boss. How ya feelin’?” The injured man grabs the skinny guy’s jumpsuit and pulls him closer. “Um, wait, maybe not in front of-”

The captain looks him up and down. “You- you’re… huh… It’s Obfonteri, right? You look funny.”

“Um, yeah, it’s me all right.” He looks over at the doctor who’s started entering data into a wall screen. “You sure he’s OK? Did something happen to his eyes?”

“I’m fine. Where’s my arrow?” He asks, glaring down at his hospital robe.

“Uh, it’s here, sir. I’ve got it.” He says as he pulls out a single arrow out of a pocket and hands it to the Centaurian.

The captain sets it on the bed beside him and wrinkles his brow. “We need to get back to the ship. Where’s Argen and Horuz?”

“Horuz is on the ship, but- wait, did you say _Argen?”_

“Yeah, Argen. My first mate. And who the hell is that?” He’s pointing to the ginger kid lounging on an empty bed.

The kid just rolls his eyes. “Not funny, Yondu.”

The other Ravager looks more concerned. “Hey, Doc, some help over here?”

She swings her head away from the screen with an irritated glance. “In case you can’t tell, I’m busy. What exactly is the problem?”

“The cap’n, I dunno, he’s confused or something. You see, I’m first mate.”

“Oh dear. Well, that sounds like a _workplace issue_ rather than a _medical_ -”

He’s next to her now and she’d feel threatened if he didn’t look so worried. “No, you don’t get it. Argen _was_ his first mate. When I first came aboard almost seven years ago. He died a few months later in a fight with a Kree patrol,” he says in a low voice looking over at the captain who has once again leaned back into the pillow and closed his eyes.

“A Corps patrol,” the teen says as he slides off the bed and walks over to where she is. His compatriot shoots him a dirty look. “What? Tullk’s only told me that story 58 times.”

The doctor snorts. “I believe your friend was trying to make it more palatable for me.”

“Oh,” he says with a sheepish smile as he combs his fingers through his hair. “Anyway, I don’t think Kraglin’s my friend. I mean, maybe he used to be, but now it’s like he’s mad at me seventy percent of the time.”

The Ravager they’re speaking about ignores the boy completely, but aims a pleading look toward the doctor. “Did you hear what I said? Ain’t you concerned about this?”

She sighs. “If what you say is true and he’s expecting to see a person who’s been dead for years, then yes, I’m concerned. I’ll have to run some tests.”

***

“Amnesia! I thought that only happened in movies and TV shows.” Peter leans forward in his chair, eyes wide. The Xandarian woman had exiled them back into the hallway while she’d done more tests on Yondu and when she finished she dragged them to her office. Peter couldn’t help but like the abrasive doctor despite the fact she talked down to Kraglin. Or maybe because of it. It's certainly a novelty. Nobody on the _Eclector_ talks to Kraglin like that. Not anymore.

“It’s rare, but it can happen. Frankly, I don’t actually know enough about his species to say exactly what’s expected after a trauma.”

Kraglin is biting his lip and the concern is clear on his face. “What do we do now?” Is there medicine or-”

She shakes her head slowly. “No, you’re just going to have to wait it out. It’s likely that his memories will return, but I can’t give you a timeline. It’s important that you keep things as calm as you can for him, which I know might be difficult in your line of work, but you need to at least try.”

Kraglin nods. “OK, got it.”

“Don’t try to force him to remember things. He’ll likely be in a fragile state and it’s best to just let them come back naturally. You’ll want to keep things as stress-free as possible,” the doctor says, though her expression looks doubtful. “Honestly, the best bet would be to have him transferred to a specialist hospital on Xandar or Krylor, but I assume-”

His shoulders slouch. “That ain't an option.”

“Right, of course it isn't. Just do your best then.” She says as she starts to stand up.

“Um, Doc?” Kraglin asks.

“Yes?” She stands up, but stays behind her desk.

“If- If, there’s been some big changes that happened in the years he can’t remember, is that gonna be a problem?” He asks, making eye contact briefly.

“Changes? You mean like the death of loved ones or a substantial shift in circumstances? Something like that?”

“Yeah, like that. That last one.” Kraglin says with a quick glance at Peter.

“OK, well, you should take it slow. If these changes aren’t immediately obvious it might be best to not surprise him with them right away. See how he reacts to things and go from there.” She walks to the door and looks back at them. “I’ll go explain the diagnosis to him first and then you two can come see him. Wait here and I’ll comm you when I’m ready for you to come in.”

Peter expected Kraglin to get up and start pacing around again, but he stays seated. The silence is uncomfortable so Peter decides to get up himself, only to have his arm grabbed so he’s forced to sit back down. “Hey, cut it out, Kraglin!”

“You need to listen to me, Quill. You heard what that doc said-” Peter recognizes the look in Kraglin’s eyes as something close to panic.

“Yeah, I heard! What’s the big deal? She said Yondu’ll probably get his memories back. And then things can go back to normal.” Peter is pretty sure that in the TV shows the person with amnesia always got their memories back after a series of amusing hijinks.

“Right, but even so, he doesn’t remember the last six and a half years! He doesn’t remember, er, breaking ties with the other Ravager factions. He doesn’t remember bringing you aboard-”

“You mean abducting me only minutes after my mom died!”

The first mate bites back a curse and shakes his head in exasperation. “Now ain’t the time for this, Pete. Whatcha think will happen if the crew finds out? You just know that at least one of ‘em is gonna see it as an opportunity.”

Peter has to admit Kraglin is right. Half the crew is more opportunistic than loyal, if not more. “OK, fine. What do we do?”

“I have an idea. It involves telling him what he needs to know and hoping his memories come back before he finds out the rest. You’re gonna have to follow my lead on this, OK?” Kraglin squeezes Peter’s shoulder and gives him a small smile. “You think you can do that?”

***

Kraglin had said he wanted to speak to Yondu alone so Peter and the doctor stand awkwardly in the corridor. “So, do you have parents?” The doctor asks in a quiet, sad-sounding voice.

He shakes his head. “No, not really. I had a mom, but she died. I never met my dad and I guess it’s too late now. I don't even know who he is.”

“I see,” she says in a way that makes it seem like she didn’t expect anything different. “I'm sorry to hear that. You know, if there is anyone you want to call, you can use my comm. It doesn't look like you have one.”

Peter looks down at where the rolled-up sleeve of his jacket exposes his bare wrist. “Oh yeah, it was on our ship that crashed. I’ll get a new one when we get back to the _Eclector_.”

The doctor looks at him with a hard-to-read expression. “You know, you don’t have to-” But the door opens before she can finish.

Inside, Peter sees that Yondu’s changed back into his leathers. They’ve been cleaned, but the overcoat is definitely charred in places. He approaches cautiously. “Um, you don’t remember me, Captain, but I’m Peter Quill and I’m on your crew.” He adds the Ravager salute as an afterthought.

The captain scowls and motions him closer. “That’s what Obfonteri here said, he's been fillin' me in on the last, what was it? Seven years? But you’re a little young to be a Ravager, ain’tcha?”

“Oh, so you noticed that, too?” The doctor interjects with a raised eyebrow.

The captain ignores her. “Well, if I picked you up, I guess that’s good enough. Let’s get goin’.” He directs his gaze at Kraglin who had just finished talking into his comm.

Kraglin looks up. “Uh, yessir. Tullk’s on his way down to get us.”

“Tullk? He’s on Stakar’s crew. That mean their ship’s somewhere around here too?”

Peter gapes at Kraglin. “You didn’t tell him?!”

"Tell me what?" The captain demands with a suspicipus look at his first mate.

Kraglin grits his teeth and glares at the boy. “I thought we'd talk about that on the way up.” Kraglin takes a deep breath. “Quill, go outside and wait for Tullk. We’ll be out in a bit.”

Peter rolls his eyes. Somehow, he doesn’t think this plan of Kraglin’s is going to go as smoothly as they thought. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, but before he can turn to leave, he’s met with a sharp whistle and a hovering Yaka arrow between his eyes.

“That any way to talk to the first mate?” There’s a coldness in Yondu’s drawl and no sign of familiarity on his face and for some reason that’s far scarier to Peter than the immediate threat of the arrow. He’s not sure why it bothers him so much because Yondu’s an asshole a lot of the time anyway, but this feels different.

Peter carefully turns his head back toward Kraglin and in the process, he sees the pained face of the doctor who stands frozen against the wall. “I mean, yes, sir! I’m going now!” The arrow retreats and he turns and walks quickly out the door, not daring to look back. He can’t see how this could possibly end well.


	2. Once Upon a While Ago

The flight back is as tense as Kraglin feared. Tullk, who had been alerted to the situation by a hastily written text message, is piloting and Peter, who hadn’t been threatened by the arrow since the last time he’d set something on fire, is sitting sullenly at the back of the M-ship.

As for the captain, well, he isn’t exactly taking the latest information in stride. “I understand the words you’re sayin’, you idiot, but it don’t make no sense! I get why we can’t let the crew catch on to me not remembering things, but what you’re sayin’ about Stakar and the gang don’t-”

“The lad’s right, though, Yondu. There was a fallin’ out,” Tullk says in a measured tone.

“A fallin’ out! The lot of us fight just about every time we’re in the same room. It’s always been that way! And you’re trying to tell me that we haven’t talked in six years?”

Kraglin grimaces. “Well, you’ve spoken a few times since then that I know of, but it weren’t never friendly.”

“I’m sayin’, it don’t make no sense. It also don’t make sense that you don’t know the reason why. I ain’t buyin’ that.” Yondu sits back with a glower, arms crossed. “Maybe I should call ‘im?”

“NO!” Tullk and Kraglin exclaim simultaneously and then exchange panicked looks. From the back there’s the sound of what Kraglin is pretty sure is muffled giggles and for a moment he’s tempted to take advantage of the fact that Yondu probably wouldn’t stop him and go smack the kid around a bit. Then Yondu laughs too and it’s so genuine that Kraglin can’t help but feel like things might work out after all.

“All right, all right. But I’m still sayin’ it don’t make sense," the captain says.

“Look, boss-”

“We’re nearly to the ship,” Tullk interrupts, to Kraglin’s immense relief.

“Right,” Yondu says, pointing a finger at Kraglin. “Once we get there, how about you and me stay in here and have a little chat?”

“Of course, Cap’n,” Kraglin says while trying to keep the apprehension out of his voice. “Um, Tullk, if you could maybe see that Quill’s work schedule is all sorted for the next few weeks?” Peter had mostly been doing shifts on the bridge as of late, but that just doesn’t seem like the best idea given current circumstances.

“You got it, Kraglin.” Tullk says. “You two can comm if you, uh, need anything.” The rest of the sentence (“such as medical attention or funeral arrangements”) goes unsaid and he opens a channel with the Eclector to let them know of their arrival. Once they’re docked, Kraglin watches as Tullk drags a troubled-looking Peter away and shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

The captain takes the pilot’s chair and swivels it around so he’s facing his first mate. “All right now, cut the bullshit. What’re you hiding from me?”

“Cap’n, listen, I’m not-”

“Nah, you’re hiding something," he says, pointing a finger at Kraglin. "There’s something about this Stakar business you’re not sayin’.” Yondu leans forward so that red eyes lock with blue.

Kraglin nods. He thought it might come to this. “OK, yeah, there are a few things I’m not tellin’ ya.”

The captain lets out a sharp laugh at that. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He leans back and hopes he looks confident.

Yondu grins, showing off his jagged teeth. “And you think I can’t make you?” He flips open his leather coat as he speaks, revealing the arrow, quietly waiting in its holder.

“Oh, I know you can. There’s no doubt in my mind, Cap’n.” Kraglin manages, doing his best to hold on to his confidence. “And you know what? If you listen to what I’m gonna say next and you still want me to tell ya, I will. No arrow holes necessary.”

“All right, then. Say it.” The captain’s tone is laced with annoyance, but he lets his coat fall back into place.

“I know you don’t know much about me yet. I guess you look at me and still see good-for-nothing mining colony trash that’ll probably end up bein’ cannon fodder.” Kraglin says, hoping his voice is staying even.

The captain’s lips twist into something like a smile. “Well, you’re still a skinny sonavabitch, so that doesn’t help much.”

“OK, yeah, fair enough. But what you don’t know, Cap’n, is that I’d had a close call right before you and your crew ended up in that slum. I’d been stabbed a couple times by some other street kids and when I was recovering, I nearly starved. There wasn’t anyone left who cared. And afterwards I knew it’d been a near thing, but I didn’t know what to do make sure it wouldn’t happen again. I was stuck.” Kraglin pauses. He tries, but he can’t begin to interpret his captain’s expression. “Then you showed up and you insisted on takin’ me along even though your first mate and most of the others laughed at the idea of it. I know it was probably just because you don’t like bein’ told what to do, but you know what? From that moment on, I’ve been loyal to you. I decided that if I gotta die young, it’ll be for Cap’n Udonta. I know you might got no reason to believe me, Yondu, but I ain’t never gonna betray you.” As he finishes, Kraglin realizes that is most he’s said to the captain about a non-work-related topic in, spending more alone well, a long time. Even when they work a night shift together on the bridge, they mostly just sit, comfortable in each other’s silence. And they definitely don’t talk much when they’re alone in Yondu’s quarters, unless they’re fighting about something (“something” usually being Quill).

Yondu sits there, perfectly still like he does sometimes and his face is once again unreadable. Kraglin prides himself on his ability to read people. After all, it was a matter of survival in his early days. The captain is one of the few people on the ship who was a consistent challenge for him. Yondu’s ability to shield his emotions probably has something to do with survival as well.

Just when Kraglin thinks the captain might be planning on staying quiet indefinitely, he speaks. “What exactly is your point with all this, boy?”

“Oh. Right. Uh, so my point is that even though you ain’t sure if you can trust me, you _can_ trust me. And, if I say it’s better for you to not know some things until you can remember them yourself, then it’s true. I swear it, Cap’n.”

Yondu stands up but keeps his eyes glued to his first mate. “All right. Fine. I guess I must’ve promoted you for a reason, but if I find out you’re playin’ with me, you’re done. Got it?”

“Of course, boss,” Kraglin says, but the captain is already stomping off the M-ship. He resists the urge to follow because being even the slightest bit overbearing would be the fastest way to make Yondu change his mind about not investigating his past. Yondu might not remember the past seven years, but he sure as hell knows how to run a Ravager ship so Kraglin decides to leave him to it.

So, he’s surprised when less than two hours later he gets a message from Yondu that reads: “Quarters. Now.” As he rushes out of the canteen he’d been wasting time in, he tries to keep his expectations in check. He knows it’s not like all the captain’s memories will have flooded back instantaneously or anything. And yet, he can’t help but feel a little hopeful when he unlocks the biolock for the captain’s room and slides in… only to be hit with a balled-up piece of fabric.

“What the…” Kraglin begins as he picks up the faded gray t-shirt.

“That yours?” Yondu demands with a glower.

Kraglin sighs, there goes that little bit of hope. “Yeah, it sure is, Cap’n. Hey-” This time he manages to dodge the projectile, which proves to be a wrinkled pair of boxers. “Before you ask, those’re mine too.”

“You wanna explain what they were doin’ in my bed?” The captain asks, red eyes narrowed. Kraglin may not be good at reading Yondu, but he’s pretty sure his current expression doesn’t bode well.

“Well, I’m first mate so it’s normal-” He begins half-heartedly. He’s not sure this is something he should lie about.

“You sayin’ that’s all this is?”

For the first time he can remember Kraglin would rather be anywhere than with his boss. “Uh, no, you’re right… You and I sorta- I mean, we sometimes-” He’s not sure of what exactly to expect, but Yondu turns his back to him and he goes back to scrolling through data on the holopad balanced on top of a pile of junk on his desk.

“Right. I want your shit outta here,” he says, still not looking back at his first mate.

“OK, Cap’n. You got it.” Kraglin takes a deep breath, unsure of whether to push his luck. “Er, but is all right if maybe I sleep here? On the floor, I mean. I _am_ first mate and I used to stay in here even before… that is, the crew might notice…” Nothing. Somehow that’s worse than a whistle.

“Sure. I Get it. I’ll just take this stuff now and come back for the rest when-”

The captain finally turns around. “I say you should leave? Come over here. What the hell is this?” He does as he’s told and takes a look at the data the captain’s scowling at.

“That’s the ship’s accounts. What’s the problem?”

“Whadya mean, “what’s the problem?”” Yondu says, letting the holopad fall back onto to the desk. “We’re barely breakin’ even most month cycles!”

“Oh, yeah, but it’s always like that unless we luck out with a big score,” Kraglin says with a shrug.

Yondu shakes his head. “I guess this has something to with the other Ravagers-”

“Exiling us? Yeah, probably. Nobody was letting me look at accounts when I first came aboard, but I can tell ya that things sure got fixed a lot faster back then.”

“What could possibly have been worth losing all that?” The captain asks and Kraglin has the feeling that Yondu is looking through him rather than at him.

Kraglin looks up. “I thought we agreed-”

“Yeah, yeah. We did,” Yondu agrees. “Now you can leave.” He says as he shrugs off his heavy leather greatcoat.

“Hey, Cap’n, I just wanna say-” He begins, taking a step closer.

“Obfonteri?” The captain says, turning back toward him.

“Yessir?”

“Get the fuck out.”

“Yes, Cap’n. Going!” Outside in the corridor, the door shuts with a click and Kraglin stays leaning against the wall for a few minutes, wondering if he’s even going about this the right way. He closes his eyes and for a second he's able to drown out the ship’s many sounds.

Until his peace is interrupted. “Hey, what’s goin’ on? Does Yondu hate you now too?” Quill. Of course.

Kraglin’s eyelids fly open. “I thought I told you to stay away from here?”

“Yeah, well, Yondu disappeared and then I couldn’t find you either and Tullk’s just sitting alone getting drunk. I dunno, everything’s weird,” the brat says, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“OK, since you’re here, let’s head over to your room and switch the bio-signature over to mine,” he says as he grabs Peter’s shoulder and starts pulling down the hallway.

“What?!” The dumbfounded look on the kid’s face does a little to help his mood.

“And your M-ship too, while we’re at it.”

“What the hell?! Why-”

The first mate shrugs. “Cap’n thinks you’re a rookie so we gotta keep that up. Remember what the doc said about maintaining calm and makin’ sure he don’t get too confused and such?”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts. Your room is right next to Yondu’s and why would you even have a room? You need to do your best to avoid him and try ‘n act normal. If that’s even possible.”

“I am normal! How am I not normal?!” Quill shouts, indignantly. “Jackass…” He adds, but at least the kid stops arguing.

***

The first cycle that Peter spent sleeping under a table and steering clear of Yondu, no one really paid any mind. The kid pissed off the captain on a fairly regular basis, after all. By the third day, there was some side-eye and quiet mutterings among the more observant crew members. By the beginning of the second week, it’s clear there’s been some kind of sea change.  

If Kraglin and Tullk had been worried that the crew would start asking questions once they’d noticed, they needn’t have been. Everyone down to a man came to the conclusion that a) Quill had finally done something so egregious that even the captain couldn’t ignore it, b) Yondu had at last come to his senses and realized the Terran was no longer a child or c) some blessed combination of the above. Pretty much everyone agreed it was for the best, but no one in their right mind would even dream of breathing a word about the entire thing to Yondu. So, they all went on with their lives and pretended it was completely normal for the kid to be sleeping on the floor, eating in the farthest corner of the mess hall and, to everyone’s amazement, calling Kraglin and the rest of the bridge crew “sir” if the captain happens to be in earshot.

By the end of two irritating purgatory-like weeks spent having Horuz gleefully task him with one tedious and/or disgusting cleaning or repair assignment after another, Peter needs a break. The _Eclector_ is scheduled for a stop at Buraida, a grimy desert planet that’s as boring and garish as Contraxia and doesn’t even offer the chance of seeing snow, but even this shithole is preferable to spending another minute on the ship.

They’d landed the M-ships just outside a midsized town filled with neon signs and booming music. He walks down the town’s main street, taking care to avoid the bars he notices Ravagers hanging around. No way in hell does he want to hang with any of them right now. He finally settles on an unassuming door leading to a basement bar. Inside it looks perfect, not particularly well-lit but with a decent crowd and no sign of red leathers anywhere. Well. Except…

“Hey, it’s Quill, ain’t it?” Yondu is alone at the bar, half-filled glass in his hand and a bottle on the countertop.

“Er, y-yeah.” He meets the Centaurian’s gaze briefly. “Cap’n,” he adds, doing his best Kraglin impression. “Uh, enjoy. See you later. Bye.”

“Where you goin’? You just got here.”

“Um, well, I don’t got a lot of units anyway so I should probably-”

“Nah, c'mon.” the captain says, indicating the bottle of cheap Krylorian booze. “I got enough here to spare you a drink. Sit.” It isn’t exactly a request so he obediently climbs up on a barstool. Yondu signals for the barman who looks at the obviously-underage customer a bit dubiously, but fetches him a glass all the same. Peter decides he’ll have to wait until Yondu is wasted enough to not notice when Peter slips out, but judging by the captain’s relatively sober state, that might take awhile. It’s going to be a long night.


	3. We Used to Be Friends

Peter watches Yondu down another glass and immediately pour another. It had been a while since he’d watched the captain drink so much up close. Lately Peter had been using the all-night parties that occur after every successful job as an opportunity to practice flying the _Milano_ without interference. So, he’s not sure, but he thinks Yondu is drinking more, or at least faster, than normal. He feels the captain’s eyes on him so he takes another sip of the foul-tasting liquid in his own glass and feels it burn its way down his throat.

“So whadya think of Obfonteri?” Yondu asks, keeping his gaze fixed on Peter.

Peter’s eyes widen. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that. “Kraglin? Uh, he’s OK, I guess. I liked him better before he was first mate.”

The captain frowns, “The ship’s records said he’s had the post for a year and a half.”

“Oh, yeah, um. I mean, I think I would’ve liked him more before he became, like, important.”

“Yeah, and why’s that?”

Peter shrugs. “I dunno, he bosses me around and stuff. He’s always yelling about something.”

Yondu looks at him like he’s an idiot. “He’s first mate. That’s his job,” he says as he pours the rest of the booze into his glass. “Just how old are you, anyways?”

The arrival of the Krylorian barman saves Peter from answering. “Y’all want anything else?” He asks.

Yondu nods. “More of the same.”

The Krylorian makes a face as he grabs the bottle. “You know we have better stuff…”

“Nah, this is good,” he says, as he pulls out a few units from his coat pocket and drops them on the bar. The barman shrugs and takes the money.

Peter shudders as he glares at his nearly-full glass. “It really isn’t.”

“You can pick when you’re paying, boy.” Yondu says with a grunt. “And if you’re gonna be a Ravager, ya gotta learn to drink. It’s a rule.”

“That’s not what you said when I got into your stash after that Spartax job,” Peter mutters under his breath.

“Wha’s that you’re sayin’?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, glancing up at his captain. “You know, boss, it’s no use talking to me.”

“Oh yeah?” Yondu asks with an amused half-smile. “Why’s that?”

“Because you wanna know why we don’t get along with the other Ravagers and all that stuff and Kraglin and Tullk ain’t telling you,” Peter says smugly.

“Is that right?” The captain isn’t smiling anymore.

“Ye-yeah. But look, I can’t help you. I swear. Nobody talks about it, not ever. Even before you- you know, the accident,” he’s says, hoping his voice sounds steady. Yondu doesn’t answer, but he turns away from Peter and fills up his glass from the new bottle. “Trust me,” Peter continues after taking a gulp of his own drink. “I’ve been trying to find out what happened for ye- for a long time. Since I came aboard, I mean. And nothing.”

Yondu props one elbow up on the bar and looks over at Peter. “Hm. Not even rumors? Drunken chit-chat?”

“Nope,” he confirms, shaking his head slightly.

The captain frowns, but his face expression no longer has a particularly dangerous quality to it. “Huh, well, I guess you can’t have been around long enough to pick up much.”

“Uh. Right, of course not. Anyway-” But before he can finish, someone grabs his shoulder roughly and swivels his barstool around. “What the…?! Oh, hey, Kraglin. Fancy meeting you-”

“What the hell are you doing?” There’s anger in the first mate’s eyes and Peter can't understand why. Sure, he knows he was supposed to avoid Yondu, but if someone who controls a flying arrow and thinks you’re a stranger invites you to do something, you don’t decline.

Yondu turns toward them with a scowl on his face. “What’s it look like? We’re drinking. What’s the point of having crew if you can’t have a drink with ‘em?”

“Cap’n.” Kraglin says as he salutes awkwardly. “Sorry to bother you, sir. It’s just, Quill here is supposed to be on the ship. He’s on a punishment detail and he must’a sneaked down. So, if it’s OK with you, I’m gonna just take him back and throw him in the brig.”

The captain smirks at Peter. “I had a feelin’ you was a trouble-maker.” Then he looks over at Kraglin without making eye contact and shrugs before turning back to his drink. “Yeah, whatever.”

“This is bullshit!” Peter says as he’s yanked from his stool by Kraglin, who has his arm in a vice-like grip. Yondu doesn’t seem to pay attention, though, so Peter lets Kraglin drag him out the main exit. When they get out to the street, he pulls free. Now that it’s the middle of the night, the temperature outside has finally decreased and the breeze that had been unpleasantly hot and dusty when they arrived is now refreshing and cool. “What’s your problem?! I didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not really gonna lock me up, are you?”

The older Ravager laughs humorlessly. “Sure I am. It’ll probably do you some good.”

“But I didn’t do anything! I’ve been playing along with your stupid act for forever now and everything sucks all the time! Horuz tried to smash my Walkman twice yesterday and everyone I thought was my friend is avoiding me like I have a contagious disease. And now you’re punishing me for what? Nothing!” Peter feels his cheeks flush and he knows it’s probably the alcohol making him reckless, but he can’t stop himself.

Kraglin rolls his eyes. “Consider it back payment for all the times you got away with shit that none of the rest of us would’ve. C’mon, we’re goin’.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re _jealous! ‘_ Cause Yondu’s not drinking with you or talking to you or even working with you anymore. Gef says he’s taking opposite bridge shifts just to avoid you!” He regrets the outburst as soon as the words are out of his mouth, but instead of the punch to the jaw he’s expecting, Kraglin just takes a step nearer and with an unreadable expression.

“Just how much did you drink?”

“I dunno. Some. A lot. I’m not really sure. What’re you gonna do, anyway? Tell Yondu?” He feels anger well up inside him, but he doesn’t know who or what he’s angry at. He just wants things to back to normal.

“You need to get a grip, Quill. I won’t be able to babysit you all the time,” Kraglin says as he shakes his head. “And Yondu- he doesn’t really care about you, not right now.”  

“I know that! You think I don’t know that?! It’s not like he ever did anyway, even before! I’m just an asset or-or whatever!”

Kraglin gapes at him. “How can you be this clueless? You think you’re so smart, but you don’t see it?”

“See what? I don’t even understand what you- Wait, Kraglin-”

“No more messin’ around, we gotta go. Unless you wanna spend two nights in the brig?”

“Seriously, listen to me! Check your six,” Peter says in a low voice as he jerks his head in the direction of the gambling parlor directly behind Kraglin.

The first mate turns his head slowly and looks over his shoulder at the small crowd of laughing drunk people across the street. “Shit.” He says when he looks back at Peter. The group of partiers includes two female Aakons, both of whom are wearing green leather uniforms and familiar flame insignias.

“Do you know them?” Peter asks.

“Nope, but we can’t risk ‘em seeing the cap’n. Plus, this means Aleta Ogord is around here somewhere.”

“OK, so…”

Kraglin is quiet for a moment and then he nods slowly. “So. This is what we do: I’m gonna get my M-ship and land it in the empty lot next to that abandoned warehouse. You know the one I mean? It’s green and yellow and maybe three blocks that way.”

“Yeah, I walked by it earlier.”

“All right. While I’m doin’ that, you take the boss out the back of this place and meet me there. Got it?”

“Yes, but- Hey, hold on a minute!”

Kraglin who had already started walking away, turns around in annoyance. “What now?”

“Um, Yondu’s pretty drunk. He’s gone through a bottle and a half of that really gross cheap stuff. You know, with the orange label? And that’s just since I’ve been here.”

Kraglin frowns. “Cap’n don’t drink that shit.”

“Apparently he does now! Or did before, or something.”

“Just do what you can. After I land, I’ll come find you if you’re not there yet so stick to the main road, but try an’ stay in the shadows, yeah?”

Peter nods and starts to turn back toward the bar’s entrance, but before he can, Kraglin grabs him by the forearm.

“And Quill? Don’t let anything happen to him.” Kraglin’s voice is flat and his eyes are narrowed. Then he lets go and heads toward the closest alley without so much as a look back.

“OK, I get it, geez! You know I don’t even have a blaster, right?” Peter calls after him.

Back inside the bar, Yondu is still in the same spot. He laughs when he sees Peter. “Can’t say I was expectin’ to see you again tonight,” he says, the words slurring slightly. He slides the bottle toward him, but his face turns serious. “But you know, a rookie like you makin’ an enemy of the first mate, it ain’t healthy. You better be watchin’ your back.”

Peter leans against the bar. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I can handle Kraglin.”

Yondu snorts. “Ain’t worried none. Just givin’ some advice as your captain.”

“Er, thanks. Well, um, don’t you think we’d better be heading back to the ship?”

The captain scowls at that. “You tryin’ to tell me what to do, boy?”

“No, sir! But you said everyone should be back before the start of first shift, didn’t you?”

“Ya know? Maybe I did. Huh, I did, didn’t I?”

“You did, boss.” Peter agrees with a nod.

“Right. You think maybe you could point me in the right direction?”

“Sure, but why don’t I just come with you?”

Yondu carefully climbs off his stool. “Tha’s a great idea. You got a brain in you, doncha? Maybe you will make it out of the next few cycles after all.”

“Wow, what a compliment. OK, let’s go out this way,” Peter says, leading the captain toward the back exit. To his relief, Yondu can walk on his own, only occasionally grabbing onto Peter’s shoulder for stability. They make it out of the bar and to the first intersection without incident, stopping only once so Yondu can take a piss in an alleyway. It’s when they’re halfway through the second block that Peter notices the couple talking and laughing in the doorway of a boarded-up shop. One of them is a pretty woman with light blue skin and silver hair, but it’s the other person who catches his eye. Peter has encountered a lot of species since he went to space, but not any like this. The man’s build is humanoid, but his entire body appears to be made of crystal. He’s so transfixed by the sight that he almost doesn’t notice the navy uniform and pewter flame badge. Damnit, Peter thinks. Why do all Ravagers like the same shitty planets? Fortunately, the guy seems preoccupied enough with his companion that they should be able to make it by undetected.

“Marty? Martinex T'Naga! Issat you?” Yondu asks, pushing past Peter toward the other Ravager. Peter can only stare in horror.

The crystal guy looks up, startled. “Who’s there? What- _you!”_

“Yeah, it’s me. That any way to greet an old friend?”

“Fuck off, we’re not friends.” Crystal guy counters, though it’s not as forceful as it could be and Peter notices the dude eying the place where Yondu’s arrow sits under his heavy leather trench coat.

The captain, though, doesn’t so much as purse his lips. “Sure did seem like we were friends all them nights we spent drinking and playing cards.”

“Well, that was then. You shoulda thought about your friends before you broke the code.” Martinex turns to look at the blue-skinned lady, who’s leaning against the wall, shooting him impatient looks.  

“The code? Whatcha mean the code-” He begins, but Peter grabs his sleeve and yanks it.

“C’mon, Yondu, let’s get outta here,” he pleads.

The guy takes a step closer. “What’s this? You recruiting twelve-year-olds now, Udonta?”

It’s too much for Peter. “I’m almost fifteen Xandarian cycles, asshole!”

Martinex stares at them. “Seriously, Yondu?!”

The captain looks just as bewildered. “I didn’t know that.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!”

“Captain, we really need to go.” Peter can only imagine the situation degenerating.

Marty activates his comm. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m calling Stakar.”

“You do and I take you and your girlie out.” As drunk as he is, Yondu stills manages to make his voice cold enough to send chills down Peter’s spine. “You say we’re not friends, then we’re not friends. And Stakar can go to hell. Six years! Six fucking years! Let’s go, Quill.” Martinex opens his mouth, only to shut it and shake his head. His comm deactivates, though and he doesn’t do anything to stop them.

They make to the end of the block before Peter dares to look back. Nothing. Maybe they are safe.

Yondu slumps against the side of a building. “Where you from, boy?”

“Oh, uh, you guys call it Terra.”

“Never heard of it.”

Peter looks around nervously, but there’s still no sign of danger. “Yeah, that’s not surprising. It’s a backwater. Let’s keep moving, boss.” He looks down at his wrist out of habit, but he still hasn’t replaced his comm since the accident. Of course, Kraglin could call Yondu, but Peter can see why he might be reluctant, given the captain’s weird reaction to the first mate.

“Wait a second.” Yondu straightens up slowly and meets Peter’s eyes. “Tell me, boy, were you a slave on this Terra?”

“What? No, I was a third grader.”

"But then why-" Yondu cuts himself off, but doesn't break eye contact, despite the fact that his eyes are starting to glaze over. “Something bad happened to you, though. I dunno what, but something.”

Peter shifts uncomfortable from one foot to the other. “C’mon, Captain, we really need to keep going. Kraglin will literally kill me if anything happens to you.”

“You sure about that? He’d have a pretty good chance of takin’ over the ship if I was outta the way.”

They resume their slow walk down the nearly empty street. “Yeah, and his first official act would be to toss me out an airlock.” Peter stops for a moment to glare at the laughing captain. “Hey, it’s not funny!”

“You really think he’s that loyal?”

“I know he is. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a huge jerk, but I can’t think of anything of anyone that would make him betray you.” Peter says.

Yondu frowns. “Back there Marty said something about the code. He mean Stakar’s Ravager Code?”

“I told you, I don’t know anything about-”

“Cap’n! There you are!” Kraglin is out of breath and panting. He’s also glaring at Peter, who remembers their earlier pretense just in time to fake a look of panic.

“Look, I know I ran, but I came back, didn’t I?” He says, backing away from the first mate.

“He did come back,” Yondu agrees with a toothy, lopsided grin.

Kraglin nods curtly to the captain and then turns to Peter. “I’ll deal with you back on the ship.” They walk the rest of the way to Kraglin's M-ship in silence and for that short amount of time, everything seems almost normal.


	4. Memories to Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's child abuse in this (Peter's 14) and while Yondu is not directly involved he doesn't prevent it either. Basically, amnesiac Yondu is an even shittier parent than normal.

Kraglin finishes the docking procedure and glances over to where the passed-out Terran is drooling on the co-pilot console. The kid doesn’t look like he’ll be waking up anytime soon. Well, it's probably a good thing he was asleep on the flight up. The last time they’d had to deal with a drunk Quill was on that Spartax job and that had not been fun for anyone. He stands up and yawns as he glances at his comm. Well, shit, he’s due on the bridge. So much for getting some sleep. “Hey, boss?” He says as he leans over the captain, trying to keep his voice low, but Yondu just makes an incomprehensible sound and turns his head away. “Aw, c’mon, Cap’n. Ya gotta wake up.”

“Marty? That you?”

“What? No, it’s me, Kraglin.”

The captain blinks slowly and frowns at his first mate. “But he was just here.”

“Martinex? Nah, boss, there’s no way. Probably were a dream. Um, anyways, we’s back on the ship and I’ve got a shift on the bridge so if you want me to help get you t-”

Yondu is standing (mostly) upright and adjusting his overcoat with a scowl. “What makes you think I need help getting to bed?” Then he motions toward the sleeping teenager. “Him, on the other hand…”

“Oh, yeah, Quill’s a lightweight.”

All humor is gone from the captain’s expression. “You have any idea why we took him on? He don’t seem like one of them half-feral street kids who can fight their way outta anything.”

 _Like you_ , doesn't need to be said aloud. Kraglin shakes his head.

“Though he must’ve had some sort of shitty childhood if he ended up here,” Yondu muses.

“Err, yeah, I ‘spose so. But, um, no, I dunno why we took him. That were your decision.” It’s not like it’s a complete lie. Kraglin lets his gaze drift. “But, I gotta say, he’s a pretty OK pilot.” He really hopes Peter is actually asleep because he’d sooner throw himself out of an airlock than let the kid hear him say anything of the sort.

“What? Him?”

“Uh, yep. When he ain’t showing off and tryin’ to get us all killed, that is.”

“Huh. Well, see ya around, I guess. Send your reports to my comm like you’ve been doin’.” The captain says, as he turns toward the M-ship’s door with a dismissive hand wave. Kraglin collapses back into his chair. Who knew this would be so hard? Every interaction with this version of Yondu feels like he’s walking on a wire that could snap at any moment, he thinks as he rubs his forehead. He reaches an arm out to shake Quill awake.

“Wha- Oh. Krags?” The boy jolts up in surprise then slouches down again.

“Hey, kid. Get up. First shift’s already started.” Kraglin turns his attention to shutting down the ship’s systems.

“So? Who cares?”

The first mate shakes his head. “Nah, don’t start with that. You know we gotta keep to our schedules. The cap’n is already suspicious and for good reason, at that. You just keep your head down and act normal.”

“None of this is normal!” Peter shouts, his face even pinker than normal.

“Yeah, I know, Pete but-”

“If things were normal, I’d be getting yelled at for watching MTV when I should be doing my algebra homework or something!”

The sound of strange yet somehow familiar Terran mumbo-jumbo causes anger to surge through his veins and he doesn’t even try to repress it. The only thing stopping him from releasing it all on Peter is the knowledge of what Yondu would do once he remembers and even that is starting to wear thin. “Quill, I’m warning you-”

Peter is shaking his head in disgust. “Oh, save it for someone who cares,” he says. As he turns, he displays the middle finger of one hand, a once unfamiliar gesture that Kraglin has gleaned the meaning of over the years.

“Hey, don’t ya turn your back on me when I’m talkin’ to you!” But the boy is already stomping off the ship in a way not unlike… well, he’d rather not to think about that. Even the relief the little piece of shit’s departure brings is short-lived because the thought of spending another day with a captain who doesn’t trust him, a crew he can’t trust and an uppity Terran brat that he nevertheless has to keep alive, fills him with an overwhelming sense of dread.

***

Peter wakes up slowly. After getting away from Kraglin, who was being a totally unreasonable asshole, he’d finally found the perfect place to sleep where he could be alone yet not freeze. That place being a midsized cargo hold below a heat duct. This particular room had only been used for storing miscellaneous equipment rather than valuable goods for as long as he could remember and sure enough, the door had slid open when he’d activated the motion sensor. He’d stuffed an old dusty tarp between two large boxes and settled there and had fallen asleep almost instantly.

“Hey, that door’s lock is disengaged. Either of you check in there yet?”

“I’ll go look.”

The voices come from the corridor outside, but they’re loud enough to startle him completely awake. The one downside to his hideout is that if he can get in easily, so can anyone else. He doesn’t miss being scrawny, but it sure would be useful just now to be able to squeeze into tight places again. He doesn’t have time to do anything except hunker between the boxes, which doesn’t prove to be the most successful strategy.

“Quill, that you over there? Hey, come on now, I can see you. No use trying to hide.” The voice and outstretched pink arm belong to a young Krylorian named Oblo who had joined the crew awhile back, though Peter hadn’t had any reason to interact with him until his recent change in circumstances. He has to admit the guy seems decent enough, though, which is more than can be said about the other rookies he’s been forced to work with. Peter reluctantly grabs the proffered hand and lets himself be pulled up.

“Who else is out there?”

“Just Retch and Meedol. Narblik, Iskra and Vorker are searching somewhere else.”

Peter notices has the same pained face expression a lot of people seem to be directing toward him lately. “Did Horuz send you?”

“Sure did. Said we couldn’t even start our shift ‘til we brought you back. He seemed pretty pleased about it, actually. What didya do to him?” The Krylorian’s voice is neutral, maybe even friendly, but he keeps Peter’s wrist in a firm grip as he leads him out of the room.

“I didn’t do nothing! Well, not much anyway. Besides, he’s hated me since I got here.”

The Krylorian gives him a sympathetic look. “Well, I bet it’ll only be worse for you the longer it takes to get back.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Peter says, resignedly. Horuz has always been mean, but he’s never actually harmed him outright. Peter hopes he won’t start now.

As promised, Meedol and Retch are outside, leaning against the wall and not doing much in the way of searching for Peter. “Hey, good job, Oblo!” Retch says gleefully. “Now let’s get this punk to Horuz and let him beat on him, so we can try an’ get our work done before the next shore leave.”

“Hey!” Peter says, breaking free from Oblo just long enough to get up in Retch’s face before the Krylorian pulls him back.

“Stop it, you idiots! We’re just gonna get in more trouble. I’m serious, Retch.” He starts walking, pulling Peter behind him. “Quill’s agreed to come without a fight, so let’s just go.”

“Is it true he’s been on the ship for years?” Meedol, a perpetually nervous-looking Hurctarian, asks, eying Peter.

“How can it be, stupid?” Retch counters.

Meedol seems to consider it for a minute. “I dunno, some species just look young.”          

“You don’t have to talk about me when I’m right here, you know!” Peter says, with a scowl that, for some reason, makes Oblo laugh.

When they get to Horuz’s work station, the older Ravager is reclined in his seat, watching a crass comedy program on a holopad. “Ah, so you finally managed. Took long enough.”

“He’s not so easy to find, sir,” Oblo says, finally releasing Peter from his grip.

Horuz laughs. “Yeah, I believe it. All right, what y’all waiting for? Get to work. I’ll comm the others and tell ‘em to come back.”

“Uh, that’s all?” Retch asks.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Didn’t you wanna see him?” Meedol says, pointing to Peter.

Horuz’s attention is already back on his holopad and he looks up in annoyance. “Yeah, and I’ve seen ‘im. Now I want you to go and repair those pipes I showed you earlier.”

“Uh, sure, of course, but that’s a big job. It’ll take more than half a shift to finish,” Oblo says.

“You know, I thought about that,” Horuz says. “So, I decided you can keep going through to the next shift. No one’s going anywhere ‘til the job’s done. And I don’t wanna see no shoddy work.”

“What?!” Shouts Retch.

“That’s not fair!” Adds Meedol.

“I think it’s pretty damn fair seein’ how much of my time you wasted.”

“We didn’t do that! It was him, boss.” Retch says, with an angry glance at Peter.

Horuz shrugs. “Guess you have him to thank, then.”

“Horuz!” Peter says in a panicked voice. “They’re right, it’s my fault! Just punish me.”

“You’re a team. Your actions affect each other and it’s better you learn that sooner rather than later. Now get out of my sight.”

Retch grabs Peter by the arm and pulls him away, down a narrow hallway. Meedol manages to grab the boy’s other arm after several unsuccessful attempts.

“Oblo! You gotta help me!” Peter pleads, but the Krylorian, following at a distance, only shakes his head and looks away.

***

Yondu walks slowly through a mostly empty and featureless, but still painfully familiar, sector of his ship. Since waking up in that clinic, walking through the _Eclector_ alone has been the only really pleasurable thing he has left. The ship, which a grinning Stakar had picked out all those years ago, was the only thing tying him to the life that had been ripped away from him in the treacherous stretch of time he can’t remember.

“Stop! Lemme go!” The voice echoes through the corridor and for some reason he can’t pin down, it sends a chill down his spine, so he picks up his pace and follows the sounds, ready to whistle. Finally, he reaches a small open space where a small group of younger-looking Ravagers have someone pinned against the wall.

“Captain!” This comes from another kid standing off to the side. Yondu recognizes the soft-spoken Krylorian, but can’t quite remember his name. At the announcement of Yondu's presence, the others stop and turn to look at him, which allows their captive to squirm free. It’s that ginger boy again. Quill. It looks like he’s already got a black eye starting to form.

“You, huh? You really are tryin’ to get yourself killed.” He turns to the rough-looking Xandarian he guesses is the ringleader. “What’s this about?”

“Um, well, Quill didn’t show up for our shift and Horuz decided to punish us all for it. After we spent hours lookin’ for him.”

“That true?” The captain, motioning Quill closer.

The boy opens his mouth, but then closes it and nods. His pathetic look hits Yondu harder than he expects. What is it about this kid? But he’s just admitted his guilt, and coddling him isn’t going to do him any favors in the long run, not to mention the harm it would do to the captain’s credibility. He's not sure why the thought of interfering would even occur to him. 

“How’d you manage to stay so soft, boy? You’ve got to toughen up if you’re gonna make it in this life. Hell, I had worse done to me just about every day when I was your age and I turned out all right, didn’t I?”

The boy’s eyes widen and he seems to momentarily forget his own predicament. “Really?”

His reaction is surprising. Sure, Yondu hasn't ever gone out of his way to talk about his past, but it’s never been a secret either. Is it just because these kids are rookies? He turns to the leader again and points a stubby blue finger at him. “Don’t do any permanent damage, you hear? We’re already short on crew.”

***

Peter picks himself off the floor where they’d left him. After Yondu left, they’d gotten a few more punches in before Oblo had stepped in and convinced them their time would be better spent getting their work done. They hadn't tried to make Peter come with them so he'd stayed put. It was then Peter realized that it wasn’t that the Krylorian was afraid to interfere as he initially thought, but that he felt he shouldn’t. So, despite knowing he probably owes him a great deal, he can’t help but hate Oblo a little along with Yondu and the others. At least, he’s fairly certain he hates Yondu. There’s one thing he does know for sure, though. He needs to get the hell off this ship.


	5. Family History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost like Peter learned to plan from someone reckless who's not that great at plans...

Peter does his best to keep to the areas of the ship he thinks should be less populated at this cycle. He doesn’t want to give anyone else an excuse to beat him the crap out of him or drag him back to Horuz and company. He’s pretty sure he can make it to the main hangar without interference, but the problem is, what to do when he gets there? After they’d come back after the crash, Kraglin had wasted no time in changing the access codes for the _Milano_ as well as disabling its engines, which Peter personally thinks was a bit overkill.

To his relief, there are only a handful of people working and milling around in the hanger and no one so much as gives him a second look. He grabs a box full of spare parts to make it look like he’s there for non-suspicious reasons and heads to the far end of the enormous room. There are a few smaller crafts that they’ve collected over the years. Ships whose security measures he could easily bypass and break into, but none of them were in good enough condition to make multiple jumps and not one of them would be any use to him at all if he were attacked or, even worse, pursued. There’s no way around it, he needs a M-ship, but the only one he’s ever been given the system access codes for besides his own is… He stops himself from thinking about it too much. There’s only one way out, he decides. If he’s going to go for it, he might as well go all the way. He sets down the box of parts and looks around to make sure no one is paying attention. He knows what he has to do. There’s no going back now.

***

The doctor sits down at her desk with a sigh. It’s already been a long day and it isn’t even half over yet. Just this morning so far, she’s seen three asteroid miners who were malnourished on top of their injuries, a fatal overdose from a recreational drug she’s never even heard of before and a prepubescent child with a chronic respiratory illness she doesn’t have the proper resources to treat. Maybe her friends at home are right and it’s time to put in for a transfer back to Xandar.

“Doctor?” An uncertain-sounding voice behind her asks.

“You’ll have to check in at reception,” she says before swiveling around in her chair. “And be seen by a nurse first. Oh.” It’s been more than two Nova standard weeks since she’d treated the Centaurian Ravager captain with the whistle-controlled arrow and missing memories, but she hadn’t been able to get his underage employee out of her mind. For good reason, it looks like, considering the considerable bruising on the boy’s face. “It’s Peter, isn’t it?” At his nod, she smiles encouragingly. “Why don’t you come here and let me take a look at you?”

“Uh. Hey.” He says, looking around cautiously. “I’m not really hurt or anything, but I think I might need some help.” He says, as he approaches hesitantly.

 _No shit, kid. That’s the understatement of the millennium,_ she thinks. “Yeah, I’d say you might. Sit down over here.” He keeps his eyes on her, but he does as he’s told. She pulls the hair out of his face and has to stop herself from swearing. “This is my fault. I never should have let you go back with them. What was I thinking?!”

“No, it’s not! It’s not even their- well, it’s not Kraglin’s fault, anyway. But I’m OK, really. I just didn’t know what to do next. After I left, I mean.”

 She nods. “Does anyone know where you are?”

“No, don’t think so. I disabled the tracker on the ship I… borrowed.”

The doctor raises an eyebrow. “Borrowed?”

The teen looks down at his feet. Judging from the color his cheeks turn, he probably isn’t Xandarian after all. “I had to get out of there.”

“Right, of course you did. I’m not saying you made the wrong choice.” She decides not to ask if the people he “borrowed” the ship from are the same dangerous criminals he’s running away from. Sometimes it’s better to not know everything. Instead, she pats his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.” She really hopes she’s right about that. “Why don’t you start by taking your jacket and shirt off so I can start my examination?”

His face turns white. “What? No! I’m not injured or sick or anything!”

She looks at him with what she hopes is the proper amount of sympathy. “Even so, I have to check.” She sighs and looks her patient up and down. “When’s the last time you went to a doctor?”

He looks up, surprised. “Two weeks ago, here.”

“I meant for yourself.”

“Oh, I guess a while back when I got hit by a blaster on a job.” He notices her expression. “It was a just a graze. Tullk said I didn’t even need medical attention, but Yondu dragged me to this clinic in the middle of a rundown market. I’m not even sure the guy was a real doctor, to be honest.”

“Well, I am.” She crosses her arms and looks him straight in the eyes. “And if you want my help, you’re going to have to let me examine you.”

He snaps to attention. “Er, yes, Captain. I mean, Doctor. Ma’am.”

***

Kraglin walks quickly down the hallway that leads to the captain’s quarters, fighting the urge to slap some sense into himself. He can’t remember feeling this nervous and ill-at-ease since he was a newbie learning the ropes.  All he needs to do is talk to the captain about an upcoming meeting with a client. It should be the easiest part of his day, but what used to be a matter of daily routine now seems like a nearly impossible obstacle to overcome.

“Whatcha doin’ up? Ain’t it your sleep cycle?”

Yondu’s ability to sneak up behind almost anyone would never not be unnerving. “Oh hey, Cap’n,” Kraglin manages. “It is, yeah, but actually, I need to talk you ‘bout something. A job, I mean.”

“I’m headin’ to the bridge.” The captain says as he starts walking again and Kraglin scrambles to keep up.

“I see. Ok, then, I guess-”

The captain gives him an odd look. “Just tell me on the way, Kraglin.”

“Oh! Right.” Kraglin talks and Yondu listens and adds things here and there and it’s almost comfortable. Almost normal. So, it’s a little disappointing when they get to their destination, but Yondu doesn’t seem to mind that Kraglin follows him onto the bridge and stays a few paces behind as he surveys the Ravagers at their various stations.

“Captain! How can you be back?” Asks a surprised-looking junior bridge officer.

Yondu scowls at him. “Whadya mean, “back”?

“Well, I mean, I just gave you flight clearance a few hours ago.”

“What?!” Kraglin and Yondu say in unison.

“Ye-yeah, and we would have definitely known if your ship had come back.” The officer, a Xeronian named Jehre, starts frantically scrolling through the data on his holoscreen. “I mean, I was sure that was your code that came through.” He stops scrolling and nods. “Yep, it was. And your M-ship. Two and a half hours ago.” Jehre says, his voice starting to quiver. Kraglin feels the bottom of his stomach drop.

“You’re sayin’, lemme get this right, you’re sayin’ somebody stole my ship? From right underneath me?” Yondu’s voice is deceptively measured and calm.

Jehre looks up in confusion. “Somebody? But it has to be Quill, don’t it?”

 _“Quill?!”_ The captain shouts, loud enough now that everyone on the bridge turns to stare. If Kraglin could shoot daggers out of his eyes, Jehre would be a bloody mess on the floor.

“Yeah,” Jehre continues. “It’s not like it’s the first ti-” He finally notices Kraglin’s death glare and shuts up.

Kraglin stares through the window at the vacuum of space and for a moment it seems like it might be preferable to be out there. “I’m gonna kill him,” he says.

“ _You’re_ gonna kill him? That idiot rookie stole _my_ ship. More than two hours ago! He could have made who knows how many jumps in that time!” The captain yanks on Kraglin’s arm. “Outside. Now.” Yondu lets go of him when they get to corridor.

“Cap’n-”

The captain crosses his arm and glares at him. “This is on you. You’re the first mate, it’s your responsibility to stay on top of potential troublemakers. There was something off about that kid, I could tell.”

“Boss, I’m telling you, it’s more comp-”

Yondu smacks him on the side of the head. Hard. “Shut up. I’m gonna take this client meet on Xandar. You’re gonna stay here and make it your one job to track down that little piece of shit deserter so I can tear him limb from limb. Got it?”

Kraglin winces, but thumps his chest all the same. “Yes, Cap’n.” As the door to the bridge closes, Kraglin closes his eyes and cradles his forehead with his hand. What does he do? Does he do the unthinkable and betray his current captain because it’s what his former, real captain would want? What if that Yondu, the Yondu with all those years of memories, never comes back? He forces himself to regain his composure. There’s really only one option, but he’s not sure if there’s any point in trying, because if the captain stays like this, it’ll all fall apart eventually anyway.

***

Peter pulls on his t-shirt and then his jacket. The Xandarian doctor had made him strip and put on a flimsy gown. The kind that reminds him of beeping machines and people talking in hushed tones while giving him worried looks they thought he wouldn’t notice. The medical exam hadn’t been too bad, though, and at least she’d gone out of the room to let him change.

There’s a knock on the door. “Are you finished?”

“Yeah.” But now that's over, what comes next? The reality of his situation has started to sink in.

The doctor walks holding a datapad with a smile on her face. “OK, so there’s nothing to worry about. You’re healthy. Almost absurdly healthy, given your circumstances and... lifestyle. You’ll be just fine.”

“OK, but what do I do now?” Peter asks.

She pulls up a chair across from him and sits down. “Well, there are a few options, but first things first, we need to get you some new clothes and find you somewhere to sleep tonight. As for the long term, can you read?”

“Of course!” Peter says, offended.

The doctor laughs at his sour expression. “OK, that’s good news. That’ll make things easier. So, one idea I’ve been considering is-” She's cut off by the sound of the door opening without warning.

“Hello again, Dr. Hasnaa. The front desk said we could come right in because we’re in a bit of a hurry.” The one speaking is a Xandarian man in a blue Nova Corps uniform. With him is a Krylorian woman in the same uniform and between them, a young Aakon man in cuffs who seems to be nursing a wounded arm. “Oh, you’re with a patient. Sorry, we’ll come back-”

“Wait!” The Krylorian says, pointing at Peter. “Do you see that, sir?”

“Shit, you’re right, Naseil,” he says as he pulls out his gun. “All right, you. Stand up and put your hands on your head.”

“Is this really necessary, Mykoh?” The doctor says as she stands up and moves in front of Peter. “He’s a teenager, basically still a child. He hasn’t done anything. He’s a victim.”

He shakes his head and scoffs. “Nice try. That uniform says differently. Change of plans,” he says as he turns to his fellow officer. “We’ll leave this guy,” he shoves the Aakon forward, “here for treatment and take the Ravager back to the base for questioning. This is really gonna make us look good.”

The doctor tries again. “I’m just asking for a little understanding and-”

“If you don’t get out of the way, Hasnaa, we’ll just arrest you too. For aiding and abetting. Or let’s see, maybe “criminal conspiracy”? Your parents and their elite friends would love that.”

Peter stands up and places his hands on his head like he was told. “OK, I’m coming, just leave her alone.”

“Peter, listen to me! Cooperate with them. Don’t try anything stupid! Do you understand?” But he’s pulled from the room before he can answer.


	6. Phone Call to the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it has taken this long for me to update. The good news is that the final chapter is finished and I'm just finishing editing it.

Yondu glares at an offending collection of junk on his desk and shoves it off to make room for the bottle he’d been drinking from and a dented holopad he’d scooped up from under a pile of dirty clothes on the bed.

He can’t trust his so-called first mate, he can’t even trust Tullk, who hasn’t made eye contact with him for days, and he sure as hell can’t trust the version of himself who, in less than a decade, somehow managed to let everything he’d worked for go to shit. He snarls at the not-quite-right face reflected in the black screen. If he really wants answers, he’ll need to get them himself.

The time it takes to for the call to go through feels likes years instead of seconds. He does start to wonder if maybe the contact he has is no longer valid when the unmistakable face of Stakar Ogord appears on the screen. “Yondu, what the- what’d I say about calling me every time you get wasted?” Judging from the slurred speech, half open navy blue jacket and the collection of empty bottles behind him, it was Captain Ogord who was close to being fall-down drunk. Stakar, like most Ravagers, liked a drink, but to get sloshed alone in his quarters? That wasn’t normal. At least it didn’t used to be.

“Stakar,” Yondu salutes before he has time to consider whether he should anymore.

The older man bares his teeth and points a finger at the screen. “I mean it, don’t call me. Don’t call Leta or Charlie or anyone else either. You- you’re lucky we let you go at all. Stay the hell away from us or maybe I’ll change my mind ‘bout that.”

“Lucky?! After everything we went through, you abandon me, and I’m supposed to be happy about it?”

“Abandon you? You betrayed us and everything we built! And you know that, Yondu. You knew it the moment you started dealing in kids.”

The fury that had been fueling Yondu melts away into shock. “ _ What? _ ”

“You’re pathetic, and you took Tullk and Horuz and plenty of other good crew down with you. I never shoulda pulled you from that transport ship. Shoulda left you to the Kree.” 

The call cuts out abruptly and Yondu can’t do anything except stare at the space his captain had been. He can’t even feel the sting of Stakar’s final statement because of what he’d said just before that.

_ Dealing in kids _ .

When he tries to call back, it doesn’t go through.

 

***

“What about the Ipeksi Tar-Mahl heist? Know anything about that?”

“A mall? No way. Malls are boring, I hate them.” Peter pauses for a moment. “Except the pretzels can be pretty good, if there’s cheese sauce.” He notes with satisfaction that for the second time since they started, the officer picks up the cup of whatever he’s drinking and then sits it down again without taking a drink.

It had been a few weeks after their narrow escape from the headquarters of the Ipeksi Tar-Mahl Conglomerate when he’d asked Kraglin. The first mate had kept working on his holopad for a while after Peter had spoken, but he knew the man well enough to know that didn’t necessarily mean he wouldn’t answer. Sure enough, after a few minutes, the Xandarian tossed the pad on the pile of dirty laundry covering the captain’s desk. “Interrogations, huh? Well, best bet is don’t end up in one.” Seeing Peter’s annoyed expression, he continued hastily, “But if ya do, the key is keepin’ the people holding you distracted.”

“Distracted?”          

“Yeah, denyin’ things outright ain’t the way to go. They’ll know you’re lyin’. They want it to be all about you, but you make it about them. Waste as much time as you can. Pretend like you’re gonna tell ‘em something, but just keep spouting nonsense. You shouldn’t have a problem with that part” He grinned as Peter huffed indignantly. “When that stops workin’, piss ‘em off.” Suddenly Kraglin stopped. “Hey, but not enough that they do real damage to you. Got that?”

“Piss ‘em off,” Peter repeated thoughtfully.

“Er, yeah. Hey Pete, maybe don’t let the boss know about me tellin’ you all this.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Like I would. He wasn’t helpful at all!” He adopted his best scowl and pointed a finger at Kraglin. “Whachu do is don’t get caught, Quill, you hear? You do, and I’ll go get you and finish the job myself.”

“That ain’t half bad,” Kraglin said with a smile that faded quickly as his eyes narrowed at Peter. “Don’t tell him I said that neither.” 

The thought that Yondu likely wouldn’t be coming after all and the sneering voice of Corpsman Mykoh bring Peter back to the present. “I don’t think you realize how much trouble you’re in, kid.”

Peter shrugged. “Me? What about you? Are you even supposed to be questioning me? Your girlfriend didn’t seem to think so. She seemed to be under the impression that you should wait for your superiors.”

“Listen up, you mining colony gutter rat, I’m in charge here.” The man straightened his back and tugged at the hem of his uniform jacket. “And Naseil’s my junior officer, not my girlfriend” he adds primly.

“Uh huh, sure. And I told you before, I’m from Missouri.”

“Never heard of it. That in Kree space? Maybe I’ll recommend we send you back there. See what happens if you mouth off like this to an Accuser.”

Peter shakes his head. “Hey, wait. I’m sorry, OK. And it’s not. I think. Probably.” The captain definitely wouldn’t come for him in Kree space, memories or no memories. The crew avoided it at all cost. The only reason he could ever get out of Tullk was something about outstanding warrants, which didn’t really make sense because Yondu had warrants practically everywhere.

“This mean you’re going to be more cooperative now? Good. What about Avkadesa? It’s one of Krylor’s moons. Ever go there with your Ravager buddies? Trust me, they’re not worth protecting.”

Peter nods. “Yeah, about three months ago.”

The Corpsman scrolls through a list on his comm’s holoscreen. “Hmm, three months. Yes, that checks out. All right, what did you scumbags do there?”

“Uh, first we went to the market for food. I had fried noodles with  _ helli _ . Then Krags took half my units because he said I owed him from cards, which wasn’t even true. Sometimes he can be a total-”

The man frowned. “Stay focused. I only need pertinent details.”

“Fine. After the market, we went to this shitty bar and Yondu wouldn’t let me gamble or do anything except drink  _ sapora _ juice like a little kid, so I had to just sit there for, like, four hours. And then Horuz got really drunk and fell down the stairs and started shouting and cursing. Then we all got kicked out.”

“And?”

“And we went back to the ship. Kraglin got in a fight with Yondu and eventually passed out in the corridor so I managed to get most of my units back.” Peter leans his chair back, trying his best to keep a straight face. “Anything else you wanna know?”

***

No matter how many times Yondu repeats the words back to himself, they still don’t make sense. Dealing in kids. Kids. He checks the controls one more time to make sure he’s still on course to Imperia City. 

In the miserable few weeks since waking up more than six years into the future, Yondu had done his best to think of rational reasons why Stakar and the rest would have cut ties with him. He’d had to begrudgingly admit to himself that it wasn’t exactly unthinkable. Sure, he could be greedy at times. He’d always been a bit rash. Maybe he had done something that could be seen as stealing from another Ravager clan. Maybe he’d simply crossed Stakar a few too many times. They’d certainly had their fair share of major fights over the years. But this? Getting involved in the slave trade? Dealing in people? In children? It wasn’t possible. Even if it hadn’t been in the Code. Not when he could run his fingers over his own scars. Hell, he could’ve made good money working jobs for Taneleer Tivan on Knowhere, plenty of other Ravager captains did, but he’d gone there once with Aleta and Stakar and as they were being led in by a young woman in a skimpy dress and familiar dead eyes, he knew he’d never be back. There weren’t a lot of things he wouldn’t do if the circumstances demanded it, but that had always been on the list. Even stranger, whatever he’d done must’ve started not long after the last things he remembers before he waking up in the clinic. 

Suddenly he remembers staring down at his own hands. A obsolete-looking piece of tech in one and a pricy auto-charge battery in the other.  _ The hell? _ That may be one of his lost memories, but it certainly doesn’t help none.

Obfonteri had sent him the location of the shop and told him that the proprietor would expect Yondu to know him. He’d also warned him not to murder the man since he was one of the few semi-legit dealers in the Nova Empire who was still willing to work with them, which didn’t exactly bode well for the meeting.

He’s greeted with a nod from the man apparently only known as “the Broker.” “Captain Udonta, always a pleasure. And you’re early.” The man raises his bushy eyebrows. “No Mr Obfonteri today?”

“‘Fraid not.”

The Broker returns to straightening items in a glass display case. “And young Mr Quill?”

“ _ Quill? _ ” He hadn’t given any thought to the mouthy, thieving, soon-to-be-shoved-out-an-airlock brat since his conversation with Stakar.

“I’m not complaining. It’s quite a refreshing change of pace.”

Yondu fights the urge to whistle the condescending bastard through. Something wasn’t right. Kraglin had told him they hadn’t been to Xandar in over a year. “We come here recently?”

The question earns him a surprised glance and a head shake. “No, unfortunately. In his last call, Mr Obfonteri seemed to imply there’d been some  _ misunderstandings _ with Nova Corps that kept you away until things cooled down. So the last time would have been a year ago, at least. You don’t… recall all this?”

“Just clarifyin’ some things.”

“I see. No problems on the homefront, I hope?”

This time he does whistle and the arrow hovers six or so inches from the Broker’s beady eyes. “How ‘bout you just answer my questions? How long’ve you worked with my crew?”

“This, uh, isn’t n-necessary. I’m happy to, ah, assist in your inquiries.” The man backed himself into the wall behind his counter.

“That’s more like it.” He whistled again and the arrow retreated to his holster. “So?”

The Broker gives Yondu a wary look. “Well, I guess about four, no, closer to five years ago, now.”

“And when did you first see the boy?”

“Peter Quill? Why, that would be your first visit. How could I forget? The young gentleman somehow managed to get Akonian toffee all over my new jewellery display.” The merchant smiles at Yondu’s strained expression. “Oh, don’t worry, that’s water under the bridge. Captain Udonta, wait. Ms Qhldikish and party will be here any moment now. Yondu! If you’ll just-” But the Centaurian was already out the door.

_ This time the odd, rectangular piece of tech is held in small, pale pink hands and Yondu’s placing a strange-looking headset on a boy’s head. A familiar but younger face stares back at him with wide eyes. “It- it works now. Um, thanks Yondu. And I’m, uh, sorry about before.” _

_ "Yeah, well, do it again and I’ll let the boys eat you like they’re always askin’ to. Now get to sleep.” _

It takes everything in him to get to the space port, but even in the comfortably familiar confines of the M-ship the universe around him feels unstable and unmoored.

 

***

Kraglin frowns at the screen in front of him. Despite being a reckless idiot, the kid could cover his tracks pretty well. Of course Peter doesn’t know that the Ravagers should be the least of his worries.

“Kraglin, you there?” The voice from his comm asked.

“Yeah, what is it, Horuz? 

“Some chick called and wants to talk to you. She's insistant that it has to be you.” 

“I don’t got time for that.” He moves to end the call. “Wait, she pushy and kinda mean?”

“Sure is. You got a type, or what?”

“Just shut up and patch her through.”

A Xandarian woman appeared on his screen. “You.” Her posh accent is the same, but it looks like she may be on the verge of crying.

“Yeah, you did ask for me. What's it you want?”

“It’s- I thought he might actually be better off with them, but Naseil just called me and- I saw the way you were with him. You- you’ve got to do something.”

“Wait, you gotta slow down and explain, Doc.”

She nodded. “It’s Peter. You have to help him.”


End file.
